


Goin' Down To South Park

by richietozierslefttoe



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak - Freeform, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Implied Masturbation, M/M, Pining, Richie Tozier - Freeform, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, im so sorry for this honestly, south park - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22789162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richietozierslefttoe/pseuds/richietozierslefttoe
Summary: AU – Richie and Eddie never lost touch after Derry, therefore knowing each other through the 2000s. Which means they were definitely those 20-somethings that watched South Park like rats. Prompt loosely based from twitter user @derryfacts2.They finish their respective parts of the theme song and settle into the couch as the show finally begins. This is their ritual, once a week they’d both take the time out of their busy lives to watch the new episode of South Park. Well, Eddie would take the time, Richie wasn’t very busy during the week. “Not much of a stand-up crowd on Wednesday nights, Eds,” Richie would tell him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 8





	1. Gonna Have Myself A Time

\------------------

“Eddie, quick! It’s about to start!” Richie exclaims from where he’s sat on their secondhand couch they found from a, less than reputable, man on Craigslist, “You’re going to miss the theme song!”

There’s a rustling sound coming from down the hall where Eddie suddenly appears. He’s running towards their living room, Doritos and Mountain Dew in his arms, to get to Richie before the first notes roll through the old box tv’s speakers. Their living room is as expected from a pair of 26-year-old bachelors. Photos of half-naked women they’ve found in playboys over the years and shitty band posters litter the walls. Despite Eddie’s attention to cleanliness as a child, the floors haven’t been swept in god knows how long, and their coffee table in the center of the room is smothered with old bags of Doritos and Richie’s “special” bottle of Mountain Dew that he refuses to let Eddie touch. “I don’t like to waste the last sips of any one flavor, Eddie Spaghetti,” he always tells Eddie. It’s a musty shade of brown and Eddie’s not sure if that’s from the mixture of flavors, or the sheer age of what’s in that bottle. The bottom layers are definitely a year or more old by now. Eddie eyes the bottle and shutters before throwing the new bag of Doritos atop the other, empty, discarded bags and plops down beside Richie on the couch. 

“I can’t believe you won’t throw that thing away,” Eddie says as he points to the liquid. 

“It soothes me, Eds. You wouldn’t understand the genius behind it with your tiny brain,” Richie mocks as he leans in to poke a finger to the side of Eddie’s forehead.

“I do NOT have a tiny brain!” Eddie exclaims as he shoves Richie away from him.

“Tiny man, tiny brain. It’s simple logic, Spaghetti Man,” Richie says, still grinning at Eddie.

“Shut up dude. The show is on,” Eddie quips, trying to feign hurt, but not being able to hide the grin forming at the sides of his mouth.

They sit in relative silence as the last commercial plays and the theme song begins. 

“Goin’ down to South Park gonna have myself a time,” Eddie sings along to the song.

“Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation,” Richie smiles as he imitates Kyle.

“I’m goin’ down to South Park gonna leave my woes behind.” Eddie sings again, this time adding a slight southern twang.

“Ample parking day or night, people spouting, ‘Howdy, neighbor!’” Richie exclaims in the voice of Cartman.

They finish their respective parts of the theme song and settle into the couch as the show finally begins. This is their ritual, once a week they’d both take the time out of their busy lives to watch the new episode of South Park. Well, Eddie would take the time, Richie wasn’t very busy during the week. “Not much of a stand-up crowd on Wednesday nights, Eds,” Richie would tell him. Though, there was never much of a crowd on the weekends, either. His content had grown stale over the last few years. Eddie remembers when Richie started out, 18-year-old baby-faced Rich, the happiest he’d ever seen him. That’s when he was writing his own stand-up. He remembers Richie staying up all night in their dorm writing new material for the club he was performing at that weekend; how excited he’d get to read his jokes to Eddie the next morning. But that was 8 years ago. He doesn’t write his material anymore, and he hasn’t in some time. A while back he’d gotten a manager who thought he’d be funnier with a ghost writer. It was fun for Richie at first, he would tell Eddie about all the places he was booking, and how much extra time he’d had now that he didn’t have to write his own jokes. But Eddie knew that it was slowly eating away at him. 

He doesn’t talk much about his career now, just telling Eddie of the dates he’s leaving and when he’s coming back, but Eddie knows that his best friend no longer enjoys his career. He wishes Richie would just tell him. Let him help. Anything. Eddie just wants Richie to open up to him, like they used to. He just wan– 

“Earth to Eddie,” Richie snaps in his face, “You in there, Spaghetti?” Eddie finally snaps out of his trance and realizes he had missed most of tonight’s episode. Truth be told, he didn’t even like South Park, he just joined in to make Richie happy. He loved seeing a real smile glint all the way to Richie’s eyes, as it rarely happened anymore.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m here. And don’t call me that, asshole,” Eddie spit, trying to break the last bit of his haze.

“Jesus, you were really in there,” Richie says, “Have you even been paying attention? The commentary in this episode is great, man.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“What, dude? You know this shows got like, great social commentary. They don’t hold back! They’ll make fun of anyone and anything. I wish I could do what they do,” Riche says somberly. 

Eddie looks over to see Richie’s face, he’s staring mindlessly at the tv while some commercial plays. “Well, why don’t you?” Eddie questions.

“Huh?” Richie looks over to Eddie quizzically. 

“I said, ‘Why don’t you?’” Eddie finishes the last part of his sentence with air quotes to really emphasize what he was trying to say, “Why don’t you start writing again, Rich?”

“It’s not that simple, Eddie, you know that,” Richie’s mood went from playful to what Eddie thinks a puppy looks like when it gets scolded, before Eddie could even blink. He fucked up. He knew better than to bring this up to Richie and yet, his stupid impulses are always leading him to making irrational, on the spot decisions. Maybe he’d picked that up from Richie, leading with your mouth instead of your brain. He picked up his other bad habits, why not this one?

“What’s not simple about it, Rich? You have the connections,” Eddie says matter-of-factly.

“It’s not that simple because I don’t even write my own jokes anymore, let alone someone else’s. I don’t even know why you’re asking.” Richie is visibly frustrated, and Eddie contemplates not pushing it further, but fuck that, he needs to hear this.

“Because I’ve seen you write, dude. I was there through all of those late nights, all the clubs you had to lie about your age to even get into. You were so happy back then. You were so good at writing your own material, I know you can still have it in you.” Eddie stops and sighs, knowing what he’s going to say next is definitely going to be regrettable. “You’re the funniest guy I know, Richie.”

“Oh, so the little man thinks I’m funny,” Richie smirks, imitating Cartman’s voice.

“We are not going to start this shit again,” Eddie spits. Richie smirks, Eddie knows this can only end one way.

“You will respect—” Richie moves towards Eddie, “Mah—” He’s nearly nose to nose with Eddie now, “Authoriteh,” he finishes his sentence as a whisper in his Cartman voice. He’s so close that Eddie can feel Richie’s breath on his face. He hates when Richie does this. To him it’s a game, to Eddie it’s different, it’s feeling Richie’s body pressed against his own and not being able to do anything about it. Wanting to keep him there as long as he can, but never too long, so Richie doesn’t get suspicious. Wanting to pull him into his arms but stopping because the consequences outweigh his feelings. Being in love with your best friend is agony. You can’t risk losing them, so you never confess your feelings, but you live in a constant state of wanting to be closer and never getting that satisfaction that you crave.

Eddie pushes Richie away. “Get out of my face Rich, your breath smells like 3-day-old Doritos. Have you even brushed your teeth this week?”

“That is for me to know and you to wonder, Spaghetti,” Richie grins and winks at Eddie before he sits back in his place on the couch.

“Ew, dude, do you know how many bacteria grow in your mouth overnight? And you’re just letting that fester in there? That’s so gross!” Eddie shakes his head realizing he completely fell for Richie’s diversion, “Hey! I wasn’t done talking about your writing, asshole!”

“What more is there to say, Eds? We do our little merry-go-round act and spin around in circles with the same conversation over and over again, but truth is, nothing will change, nothing ever changes.” Richie has him on that fact. They do have this conversation frequently, and it always ends with Richie telling Eddie he’ll ‘work on it.’ But he never does. He just goes back to his day-to-day routine. Eddie is fed up with it. Richie deserves so much better than his current situation. “Nothing ever changes because you don’t let it change. You don’t do anything to let yourself be happy, Richie. You need to stop being so harsh on yourself all the time and make the change.” Richie just gazes over at Eddie. He looks almost hurt, and definitely angry. Eddie knows he really fucked up this time, worse than he had thought before.

“Fuck this, man. I’m going to bed,” Richie stands up and quickly makes his way down the hall to his bedroom.

“Rich – Richie wait a second—” But it was too late, Richie had already slammed his door and Eddie was left sitting on the couch like an idiot. He always fucks everything up. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Why can he never keep his mouth shut?

Giving up Eddie turns the tv off before checking and rechecking the lock on the front door, you can never be too safe, even when you’re sad, and sulking off to his bedroom. It’s right across the hall from Richie’s and before he steps over the threshold he pauses, looking back to Richie’s room and contemplating knocking on the door. He shakes his head, thinking better of it, and steps over the threshold, closing his door on the way. Before it can close all the way, though, a foot hits the base and a hand grabs the doorknob.

“Okay,” Richie says quietly.

“What?” Eddie says, turning to look towards the door. Richie hadn’t opened it, he just stood there, one hand on the knob, other down at his side. He was speaking through the small gap he left open.

“I said okay, I’ll try. I’ll call my manager tomorrow.” 

Eddie is suddenly thrown aback. “Richie, you don’t – you don’t have to do that, I was just messing around with you.” Eddie stepped to open the door further. Richie stood, looking completely defeated, in his doorframe. He looks up to meet Eddie’s eyes. “I’m not, Eds. You were right. I need to make a change. I’m not happy, I know you know that,” Eddie shrugs, an unofficial agreement to Richie’s words, “I just – I got complacent and stuck my tail between my legs to get ahead, but now it feels like I’m falling backwards and I’ve got to do something Eds – I’ve got to do something because if I don’t…” Richie takes a deep breath and looks down at his feet, “If I don’t I’m afraid I’m just going to become some washed up, D-list comedian begging for change at every open mic night I come across.” Eddie stands silent. He doesn’t know what to say, Richie is hasn’t been this open with him since college. “Hey, Eddie, Eds, are you even listening to me?” Eddie finally realizes he’s staring blankly at Richie. He shakes his head, god, he’s done that a lot today, “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m listening, man,” Eddie pauses, “Good. I’m glad you’re finally ready to get back into real comedy. No offense but your new stuff blows and I can’t keep pretending like I like it every show.” Wow he really has been around Richie for too long, the words that just came out of his mouth were 0% Eddie, 100% Richie. Okay, maybe like 50% Eddie. Richie smirks at him.

“Screw you, Eddie, I’m goin’ to bed,” Richie mocks, using his Cartman voice again. He turns on his heel and takes the few strides it takes to get across the hallway to his bedroom. Before he gets all the way in though, he stops and turns his head slightly over his shoulder, “Really though, thanks man. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“Go brush your teeth, asshole,” Eddie says with a grin and shuts his door. He stands behind it until he hears Richie shut his respectively and goes to lay in bed, excited for what is to come for his best friend.


	2. Friendly Faces Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I get this job—” he says, Eddie can tell he’s about to say something stupid, “—if I get this job I promise not to make any jokes about your dick,” Richie finishes his sentence with a wink and the biggest shit eating grin Eddie’s ever seen. 
> 
> “You said you weren’t looking, asshole!” Eddie yells.
> 
> Second chapter of a South Park inspired fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter occurs in like a 2-hour time period so not much besides fluff today. I’ve been busy with classes but I’m going to try to update again within the next few days with a more content-centric chapter. Rating bumped to M for an…ahem…suggestive scene.

Chapter 2 – Friendly Faces Everywhere

Eddie’s alarm clock glows red amongst the walls of his dimly lit room, the only other light coming from the sunrise peeking through his curtains. He groans. 6AM. _I have to get a new job_. Risk analysis was never his first choice. Granted, he never wanted an economics degree to begin with. Eddie wanted to be a doctor. But his mom would have never let that happen. “Too many risks for you to get a new disease, Eddie Bear,” she would have said. So, Eddie just did what he and Richie’s childhood friend Stanley Uris did and went into economics. It was easier than way anyway. Not much studying had to be done, so it gave Eddie time to learn who he was when he was free from the strict rule of his mother. Richie and Eddie have lived together since their first dorm room at the University of Southern Maine. They have their tiffs here and there, but they have never fought in a way that would make either move on from each other. Richie’s schedule in school was always a little more complicated than Eddie’s, he had only gotten a communications degree, but with a focus in film and media he was mostly always busy with some new project, or writing his stand-up, so it kept the two from being at each other’s throats through their two years in the dorms. When they finally moved out of campus housing and into their own apartment, Eddie had realized just how lonely he’d get without Richie’s company. After the move, he couldn’t just walk down to the dining hall, or play pool in the dorm hall’s lounge while Richie was away. He turns his body over to lay flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling, anticipating the loud blaring of his alarm clock to come at 6:30. He started to reminisce on a memory.

_“Come on, Rich. You cannot be late to your first real gig.” Eddie was banging on the door to their shared bathroom. He was mid swing when the door flew open. Richie looked sick._

_“I can’t do this, man,” Richie said. His voice was weak, the fear behind his words were evident. Richie was stood adjacent to him, facing down at the sink. Eddie walked towards him and put his hand on Richie’s shoulder._

_“No, hey, look dude. You’re going to do great tonight. You’re Richie fucking Tozier. You can do anything, remember?” Eddie began to rub Richie’s back in a short, brisk motion. “You’re going to kill it out there.”_

_“Eddie, you don’t have to talk me up just because we’re friends. We both know I’m going to get up there and forget my jokes, then everyone’s going to stare at me like I’m some fucking chump.” Eddie’s motion stopped. He gave Richie a confused look._

_“Who the fuck still says ‘chump?’”_

_“Me, asshole,” Richie retorted. Eddie let out a small laugh and grabbed Richie by both shoulders, forcing him to turn and look at him. “Listen, Trashmouth, you’re not going to hear me say this probably ever again because you’re usually a real fuckin’ asshole, but you’re my best friend, I’m here for you no matter what, and if that means that I’ll have to force myself to laugh when your jokes bomb, then that’s what I’m going to do.”_

_“Losers stick together,” Richie said quietly._

_“Losers stick together, Rich. I’ll be in the front row, right in front of you, giving my encouragement,” Eddie says, “Look, I even copied your script so that I could follow along and if you get lost, I’ll help you.” Eddie pulled a stack of notecards out of his pocket to show Richie._

_Richie smiled, only slightly, “Thanks, Eds.”_

_“No problem, man.” They stood there for a few seconds, Eddie could tell the Richie was thinking. After another moment Richie leaned down to hug Eddie. “Whoa what?” Eddie had thought. They had never just hugged each other before. Sure, they did celebratory hugs, like for their high school graduation, but never just…because. Eddie paused slightly before raising his arms to hug Richie back. They stood like that for what felt like an hour and a second simultaneously, until Richie pulled away and left the bathroom in a haste. Eddie just stood there, still slightly taken aback by the fact that Richie Tozier showed unforced physical affection towards another human being, let alone specifically to him. He wasn’t a touchy person, and never seemed to be very affectionate with the small number of girls he dated over the years, so any non-semi-hostile touch from Richie is a surprise._

_“Eduardo, andale, let’s go! We’re gonna be late!” Eddie shook his head and looked down at his watch to see the time. ‘Shit, yeah, we will be late.’ He ran out of the bathroom and through the front door Richie was holding open for him._

Eddie brings his hands to his face and sighs before smiling. That was the night Richie performed, for the first time, in front of a real, live, sit-down audience instead of some bar. They were 22 years old, both set to graduate just a semester later. Richie, of course, didn’t end up needing Eddie’s help. He was a natural on stage. His flow and the rhythmic cadence of his voice allowed him to easily get everyone hooked on what he was saying. Their hug that night still plays in Eddie’s mind more than anything else, though. Richie hasn’t been affectionate with him since that day and Eddie knows he shouldn’t care because they’re friends and friends don’t do that kind of stuff, but he craves Richie’s warm embrace surrounding his body like a heated blanket on a cold night. He craves the touch of Richie’s big hands cradling his sides like if he didn’t hold on Eddie would slip away. He craves those big hands sliding down to— **BEEP BEEP**. _Fitting,_ Eddie thinks. He turns over to silence his alarm and pulls the covers off his body.

Eddie makes his way to the bathroom, towel in hand. Richie is normally never up at this time, or any time before noon, really. It works out well for Eddie because they’ve never had to fight over who gets the shower in the morning. Eddie puts his hand under the shower and feels that it’s the right temperature before stepping in. Normally, his showers are a way for him to destress before the upcoming day, but he just can’t stop thinking about Richie’s hug from his memory this morning. The way he had felt when he had Richie’s strong arms around him. _Goddammit, I don’t have time for this right now,_ he thought as he felt all his heat creep its way down towards the one spot on his body he didn’t need it to. He doesn’t need to think about his best-friend like this, it’s wrong. Richie would be repulsed if he knew that Eddie was thinking about how _big_ his hands were, and the way they could easily cup his entire face. Or if he knew that Eddie was thinking about those same hands moving down to—he’s brought out of his mind by the sound of the bathroom door creaking open slightly. He starts to panic a little, what’s Richie doing up so early? And why is he in the bathroom? Eddie is clearlyshowering, and… _oh god_ … what if Richie is trying to pull some sick prank and pulls the shower curtain back and sees Eddie in his… state?

“Hello?” Eddie manages to croak out. He hasn’t spoken this morning, so sleep is still evident in his voice. “Rich, is that you?”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, Eds. I just really need to brush my teeth and my toothbrush is in here and I was just going to grab it and go to the kitchen and—” Richie is stammering. He sounds… embarrassed? Eddie can’t see him, but if he could he knew there would be a blush across his cheeks.

“Oh… uh… okay, man. Whatever just shut the door again when you leave,” Eddie’s confused as to why Richie couldn’t just wait until he got out of the shower to brush his teeth. And why the hell is he even awake?

Richie must have sensed his confusion from the other side of the curtain because he just blurts, “Don’t worry, Eddie Spaghetti, I’m not trying to get a peek at your dick.”

Eddie scoffs, “First of all, asshole, you know that’s not my name. Second of all, get the fuck out of here.”

Richie chuckles and retorts, “No problem, Eds, don’t be thinking about me too much in there,” and walks out with his toothbrush and toothpaste before closing the door behind him. Could he tell that Eddie was hard? Could Richie read his mind? _Shit, what if he can?_ Eddie thinks. He shakes his head and realizes how stupid he sounds. He can’t _read minds_ that’s ridiculous. Eddie is just overthinking it. Richie just wanted to brush his teeth, nothing more. _Wait,_ Eddie thinks, _that still doesn’t explain why he’s awake._ He decides to finish his shower as quickly as possible to try to catch Richie and question him before he gets the chance to leave for the day.

Eddie meets Richie in the kitchen after getting ready for the day, “Why the fuck are you awake?” Is the first thing he blurts.

“Well good morning to you, too, sweetie,” Richie says back to him, grinning. “If you must know, I’m doing what you told me to and putting myself out there. I’m going to force Steve to get me a meeting with Trey Parker and try to get on writing at South Park.” Richie sounds so confident that it throws Eddie back a bit.

“When I said to start writing again, I was expecting you to write your own stand-up, not start writing for TV,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, well, Eds, what if I’m tired of stand-up? I’ve been doing it for _8 years_ , man. I’m burnt out. I’ve done everything I can do with it and I want a change.” Richie sounds so sure of himself that Eddie almost doesn’t want to argue, but he wants to make sure Richie knows what he’s getting himself into.

“Rich, you don’t even know if Trey will sit down with you, how are you going to assume that he’ll just give you a job? And what happens if this doesn’t work out? Are you just going to go back to your old routine? You’re not getting as many gigs anymore, Richie, and we can’t risk missing rent again.” He wants Richie to be happy, but he also knows they both have to have a stable income to keep up with bills.

Eddie notices Richie’s mood shift, “Well, dude, what the fuck do you want from me?” Eddie cocks his head in confusion at Richie’s words, “Last night you tell me I need to make a change, and now you’re telling me you don’t want me to. What the hell do you want me to do, Eddie?” Eddie recoils slightly at the use of his full name. As much as he pesters Richie about it, he does actually like the pet names, they give him a sense of belonging in their friendship. Richie only uses his full name when he’s angry at Eddie, he suddenly realizes this conversation is going nowhere but down if he continues on so instead, he just looks to hit feet and says, “You’re right, I’m sorry Rich. I just want what’s best for you, and us, you know that. We just can’t go through what we did last year. I can’t take out another loan just to catch up,” he looks up at Richie, “I’m glad that you’re putting yourself back out there.” He’s looking into Richie’s eyes now, his gaze shifting from hostile to something softer.

“I know, Eds. It won’t be like that this time, though. I have more connections now and I know I’m good enough for Trey to hire me for at least one episode. I know if I can convince him in that episode that I’m not completely shit at my job, that he’ll keep me around,” Richie says, the hostility fading from his voice. “If I get this job—” he says, Eddie can tell he’s about to say something stupid, “—if I get this job I promise not to make any jokes about your dick,” Richie finishes his sentence with a wink and the biggest shit eating grin Eddie’s ever seen.

“You said you weren’t looking, asshole!” Eddie yells.

“How could I resist catching a peek at you, Eds?” Richie begins laughing, “You’re just too smokin’ for me to not stare.” Eddie is blushing. He walks over and lands a hit on Richie’s shoulder.

“It’s not funny, dude! The shower is my personal time away from you!” Eddie spits as Richie continues to laugh.

“Oh yeah, man, you were getting reeeaalll personal with yourself before I walked in,” Richie says between laughs.

“Fuck you, dude! And don’t call me hot, it’s fucking weird!” Eddie pushes Richie and walks back out of the kitchen to the door, “I hope they don’t hire you, asshole!” he yells as he shuts the front door. He can hear Richie’s laughter grow louder as he walks towards his car.

He wanted to ask Richie how much he saw or worse, what he _heard_. But that would imply that Eddie cares about what Richie thinks about him and he couldn’t let himself think too hard about Richie thinking about his dick. And… Wait, did Richie call him hot? Does that mean something, or is he just being an asshole? _It’s going to be a long workday, _he thinks before starting his car and taking off into the city to start the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter may or may not be from richies POV, would you guys want me to switch it up? Or keep it as just Eddie?


End file.
